OK, I'm going with the "there must be a pony in here" theory. I'm feeling like this pain is a continuing barn full of horse manure, and I'm mucking it out as fast as I can. And I'm here to say that there ain't a pony in here...there's a Palomino at least. Maybe two.
The problem(s) being: physical illness is hard to love; six weeks of steady pain is even harder making an attitude of gratitude a distant hope...and may I say (not too harshly I dare hope, she noted sarcastically) especially with self-centered friends who want to teach me a lesson by quoting their own self-sanctified ways of dealing with pain: "Just think of all the poor souls who lost limbs to LEDs and feel shame for whining about this little problem." No, it did not elevate my gratitude level, but that may well be because I do have an affinity for the whine...who's kidding whom?
So if you're looking to find God or even evidence of God here today...tough. Unless you're willing to suspend belief and accept that this is God just airing his personal peeves through me. Meaning, of course, that he agrees with me that it would be nice if Gertrude kept her self-sanctified ways of dealing with pain to herself..
I like that...I do believe it's my new truth.
Thank you.
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